


The Party

by ghostburr



Category: Amrev - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostburr/pseuds/ghostburr





	The Party

The room was cast in an eerie orange glow, faces distorted in the dim light. The sun had set some time ago—Alexander Hamilton glanced sideways at the grandfather clock nearby: 12:30 am. He knew his new wife wouldn’t be frantic with worry. That she’d only been married to him long enough to know his late-night work habits, but short enough to still trust him. That the infant she’d given birth to almost ten months prior was an easy, pleasant child, who often slept through the night undisturbed. And that she understood how desperately the overworked, auburn haired Nevisian needed to forget the death of his past life.

  
A loud shout of laughter brought him back from his reverie and his tiny twinge of guilt disappeared as he felt the warm, scented arm of a shapely woman embrace him from his left.

  
“Does your wife know you’re here, Mr. Hamilton?” The red lips parted in a wide grin, and several people at the table grew quiet. “Or does she think you’re at work?”

  
Alexander smiled, for once at a loss for words. A bawdy joke from an unknown voice across the table interrupted them. The woman to his left screeched, though Alexander hadn’t quite caught the words.

  
“All Hallow’s Eve!” Another voice yelled. Hamilton looked up, and saw a slender youth, nearly ten years younger than he, bring drinks to the rowdy crowd. He lifted the tray above the table, and with delicate balance brought it down to the center of the smiling faces who all reached for theirs at once. Suddenly, one appeared in front of Alexander, and he reached for it without thinking.

  
“Oh, I know it’s a week away, but I do love All Hallow’s Eve,” the red-lipped woman continued, slipping her hand once more around the Nevisian’s slender but strong shoulders. “Even though everything is dying, I feel myself come alive.”

  
The laughter of the man across from her was muffled by the sudden pounding in Alexander’s ears. A sharp, vicious jolt coursed over his body once, ended in his finger-tips, and landed in his throat.

  
“Did I say something to upset you? You’ve gone pale, my dear!” The red-lipped woman caressed Alexander’s face and he smiled.

  
“You have nothing to fear,” he took another swig of the brandy that appeared in front of him, “I believe the alcohol is getting to me.”

  
A deck of cards was brought out, several people cheered. The red-lipped woman removed herself from Alexander’s side to join another group of equally beautiful ladies in a game of—Alexander couldn’t make out. Perhaps they’d made it up on the spot. He’d lost count of the brandies.

  
He looked around him again at the cheering people. What on earth were they cheering for? He wondered. Some people wore masks, to honor the tradition on All Hallow’s Eve. There were men in rouge, women in breeches. He glanced out the window at the pitch-black sky from a small window in the corner of the room, until a man’s dancing blocked it. With one final sip, Alexander finished his latest drink.

  
“You’re quiet, Hamilton!”

  
An unknown man’s voice shouted across the room. Alexander drunkenly raised his empty glass to acknowledge it. He had been quite. Event his wife remarked so, though she admitted she hardly knew him. At least, not for the past two months.

  
“Something on your mind?”

  
In a split second, a second woman landed in his lap, taking the empty brandy glass from his hands and placing it on the table. She ran a delicate hand through his thick auburn hair, her finger nails sending chills across his arms.

  
“Everyone said, ‘Alexander Hamilton. He is the life of the party!’ And so I had to come and meet you. They say you sing.”

  
“I do, occasionally.” He caught himself staring at a freckle on her chest. Another manicured finger cupped itself under his chin, and brought his gaze to hers.

  
“Will you favor us tonight?”

  
Several heads turned in curiosity.

  
“I fear I have had too much to drink.”

  
The woman pouted. The Nevisian could not quite muster up enough energy to care. She removed herself from his lap, and joined a group of fiddlers in the corner, desperate for music. In seconds, the struck up a tune, and Alexander felt himself drift again.

  
He was present, but only physically. Blurs of colors danced before him, and he could not make out genders or ages. A single chime from the clock told him it was one am, and he couldn’t bear the thought of riding all the way back to Albany, as autumn ushered in its wickedly cold breeze. The city was alive and pulsing, and it reminded Hamilton that there was something worth living for.

  
“Why is it that wherever I am, you always seem to be?”

  
Alexander felt a cool presence next to him; Aaron Burr removed his mask, placed it gently on the table, and scooted his chair closer.

  
“They say it is a small world, growing smaller by the day, despite your best efforts,” the black-eyed man continued jovially. “What do you make of this display?”

  
The drunken Alexander struggled to find words—something that nearly always happened when he’d been drinking. On the contrary, the usually taciturn Burr spoke with great ease and, to Alexander’s astonishment, charm.

  
A man in a ladies’ powdered wig swooped in and grabbed Aaron’s mask from the table before the latter man could save it. Alexander watched as his new dark-eyed companion stood quickly, and grabbed the pretty man around the waste in a mock-tackle. In a flash Aaron had impressively regained his mask, and the be-wigged partygoer covered his mouth in giggles while Burr chastised him between laughs.

  
“Children, the lot of them!” Aaron sat down again. He pointed a gloved finger, “Received quite the indecent proposal from that one.”

  
A slight flip in his stomach caused Hamilton to blush.

  
“How many of those have you had, Hamilton?” The black-eyed man remarked between laughs. “You’re practically comatose.”

  
“I lost count,” The Nevisian managed finally, feeling color rush to his face. “I only wanted to stay for an hour. That was four hours ago.” He shook his head, careful not to go too fast lest the pleasant churning in his gut turn to nausea. Next to him, Burr removed his gloves.

  
“Theodosia made me go. Said I’d been working too hard. Said she would like a few nights alone with the baby, and so here I am. Excuse me, boy!”

  
Aaron motioned to a different youth to bring them more drinks. Hamilton watched him intently and marveled at how easily he socialized in this group of strangers. He certainly hadn’t been this laid-back on the battlefield.

  
“A game? What kind of game?” More voices dragged Hamilton up from his thoughts, and he saw Aaron standing up, speaking to a woman with a devious grin fixed on his mouth. He couldn’t be sure in the dim light but Alexander swore Burr’s lips were redder and fuller than hers.

  
“Everyone sit, then. Sit, sit,” Burr ushered three more people to the table, so it was full. He sat back down next to Alexander, who, for reasons unknown to himself, began to laugh quietly.

  
“My friend Hamilton, who is woefully stressed,” It was Burr’s turn to slip an arm around the man, “Has never played this game before. What is it called, Rose?”

  
“‘Questions and Commands!’”

  
“Questions and commands.” Burr repeated. Still with his arm hooked around the auburn-haired man, he spoke to the woman called Rose with an amused grin. “And would you say this game helps one cheer up?”

  
Alexander held up a hand, speaking finally, “I can’t. I can’t.”

  
“Can’t what, soldier?” Aaron turned his gaze back to Hamilton.

  
“I have no stomach for games.” The Nevisian tried for a smile. He suddenly felt very tired.

  
“Nonsense! Question or command?” Rose pushed, her eyes flashing dangerously in the flickering candle light. The fiddlers struck a slower tune, and the blurred dancers changed their tempo to match, if only slightly, drunkenly, off-beat. The table waited expectantly, and Aaron loosened his grip around Hamilton’s shoulders.

  
Roses’s quick eye caught the movement and she inclined her hear toward Burr. “Aaron, make him play.” She pouted, exaggeratedly sticking out her bottom lip.

  
A man’s voice spoke up, “Don’t beg, Rose, you know he can’t resist a pretty thing.”

  
“Don’t give away all my secrets!” Burr used his free hand to reach out and playfully slap the man. “You’re all so eager, you go first.”

  
“Oh, fine!” Rose reached for her full glass; took a small sip. “I choose…command!”

  
“I command you to finish that glass, right now.” All eyes turned to Hamilton, who decided he couldn’t sit quietly any longer. Next to him, Burr tilted his head back and laughed. Rose blushed, slightly put out.

  
“Now he speaks!” She called, crossing her arms. “I can’t finish the whole glass in one drink, I’ll get sick!”

  
“You wanted to play the game, my dear,” Alexander responded, a broad, pointed grin spreading across his face. He lazily indicated to the red wine; the rest of the table looked on expectantly. Dutifully, the blushing woman took her drink, locked eyes with everyone present, and downed her merlot in four seconds.

  
“Bravo, mademoiselle. Quite impressive.” Burr finally removed his hand from the back of Alexander’s chair to applaud. Rose covered her mouth, face reddened. Several of the other partygoers at the table followed suit and clapped along with the black eyed man.

  
Once composed, Rose spoke, “I’m going to be sick!”

  
“You’ll be fine,” Hamilton responded absentmindedly.

  
“You’re cruel, Mr. Hamilton,” Rose responded, trying to hide a begrudging smile. She stifled an unlady-like belch with the back of her hand, and steadied herself. “You shouldn’t have been so harsh, because it’s my turn to ask you.”

  
Burr’s arm resumed it’s place on the back of his chair, brushing against Alexander’s back. Another jolt sobered him just a bit.

  
“Do your worst, Mademoiselle,” the Nevisian remarked haughtily.

  
“He’s fearless, Rose, remember I told you?” Aaron said from Alexander’s side. The latter man felt his face go red, and he straightened his back. Suddenly, the room seemed in sharper focus.

  
“Told her? Told her what?”

  
“Oh damn. See what you’ve done, Rose?”

  
“Why are you talking about me with this woman?” Alexander looked to the black-eyed man at his left, who smiled silently at him.

  
“You’re ruining the mood, Hamilton.” A nameless voice called from next to Rose.

  
“Come now, let’s keep playing!” Another called between laughs.

  
“Question or Command, Mr Hamilton!” Rose clapped, trying to get his attention. Someone from the dancing group in the corner laughed and mimicked the woman’s clap, causing a fiddler to laugh and hit a sour note. Alexander felt the entire room was centered on him, and was all of the sudden keenly aware of the focused black eyes.

  
“Fine!” He thought for a moment, his mind rapidly tracing the outcomes of each choice. Six sets of eyes watched him expectantly.

  
“Let’s hear it, then, soldier.” Aaron muttered from beside him, poking him on the spine, unknown to the other game-players.

  
“Command.” Hamilton felt the drunken grin creep back onto his face before he could stop himself. There was no way he’d be able to truthfully answer any questions for the nosy partiers, and he had no desire to.

  
Rose put a finger to her lips, looked up to the ceiling in mock thought. The man to her right whispered in her ear, locking eyes with Hamilton, who felt the grin slip. The woman let out a shriek, and her mouth formed an oh of shock. As the haze in his mind began to clear, the Nevisian vaguely recognized the man from a summer campaign under Washington.

  
“Kiss him!” Rose raised a finger to Burr, keeping her eyes locked with Alexander. The latter man felt Burr’s arm removed itself from the back of his chair quickly.

  
“Mademoiselle, come now!” Aaron began, a look of disbelief creeping over his face. The woman clapped, and tilted her head back in laughter. Hamilton stared ahead blankly, trying to remember his time in the war. The clock chimed 1:30 loudly, between songs. He turned to his left.

  
“Just one kiss,” a voice called, “This is how the game goes!”

  
“You can forfeit, but you’ll be out!” Another remarked. A few others tittered.

  
Burr leaned in, turning his cheek to Alexander. Just then, Rose spoke up.

  
“Ah, ah! Lips!” The nameless man next to her laughed into his own goblet.

  
“Rose!” Burr turned his head the other way, back to her sharply.

  
Hamilton absentmindedly licked his lips, tasting the alcohol again. His own cheeks and fingertips had gone numb, and the familiar pleasant churning in his gut returned. He couldn’t get his words out, the drink making them swim through his mind without their usual clarity. He tried to remember what excuse he’d given his wife for his weekend stay in the city. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the other man’s chin between numb fingers and brought the gaze to his own. Alexander noticed the immediate, rapidly dilated pupils and the eyes that were suddenly not black, but hazel.

  
In an instant, Burr rolled them, “Go on then, soldier. Get it over with.”

  
Alexander craned his neck, and tilted his head. He felt first the heat of Burr’s mouth, and then, closing in, the wetness of his lips. In a haze, his mind tried to sense who’s stubble was scratching who’s–the effect that told Hamilton neither man had been home for some time. The alcohol’s numbness turned to pleasure again, and, with some shock, he felt Burr give into the kiss, opening his mouth just a fraction more. Alexander felt his neck grow hot, his face flush at the sudden eagerness, and he brought his hands up to Burr’s cheeks, feeling their warmth. Hamilton wondered if anyone at the table noticed, until he heard Rose’s shrieking laughter and the fiddles once again.

  
“Positively indecent!” Someone called from the other side of the table, before descending into laughter.

  
“I need another drink!” Another joked. Rose agreed with this, and turned her head to snap a finger at an idle partygoer.

  
At this, Burr was the first to pull away, his breath suspended between them. He was silent for a moment, gaze averted as he watched Alexander’s mouth. Black lashed fluttered and Hamilton found himself staring into the same dark eyes, yet somehow entirely different. He noticed, beneath the steel-grey of his silk vest, Burr’s rapid heart beat, which matched Hamilton’s own fluttering breaths.

  
The room seemed to disappear around them, and suddenly Alexander didn’t feel so drunk. Two of the partygoers at the table had begun their own game of cards, and seemed oblivious to the kiss. Rose, new drink in hand, had seemed to have forgotten about the game, and stood up with a dance partner, dragging her to an open spot on the floor as they both giggled incessantly. Hamilton, unsure how to proceed now that he was left alone, kept the distance between his mouth and Aaron’s at a manageable two inches.  
Finally, the Nevisian laughed, and wiped his lips.

  
“What a terrible game, Mr Burr.”

  
Aaron watched him silently, gaze darting from his lips to his eyes. Alexander noticed with some amusement that the kiss seemingly transferred his hazy silence to Burr. At this, he laughed out loud, not sharing the joke with anyone else.

  
“I am not that terrible of a kisser,” Alexander tried again, still close enough to Aaron to whisper. Finally the latter man closed his slightly ajar mouth, and licked his own lips.

  
“That Rose can be an absolute imbecile sometimes, I am sorry she embarrassed you so,” Burr tried, with a weak, nervous laugh. “I had thought she’d command something a bit more decent.”

  
Both men straightened their backs; Burr toyed with the corner of a napkin. Hamilton smiled to himself, stealing a sidelong glance at the man to his left, who looked a unique combination of both pale and flushed. The latter man raised his gaze to the rest of the partygoers in front of him, only vaguely picking out a distinguishable tune from the fiddlers. The two men sat at the table alone, the game having dissipated. An awkward silence fell between them, which struck Hamilton as comical.  
Burr cleared his throat, standing, and smoothing out his vest. Hamilton looked up at him and smiled.

  
“Leaving so soon, then?”

  
The eyes, black again from a distance, blinked twice. “I have several briefs to tidy up, you know, this and that,” Aaron raised a hand awkwardly. Alexander noticed the slight, nervous shake, unbeknownst to the former man. “I fear I must be heading home then, Mr Hamilton.” He added formally.

  
Hamilton stood, and grazed his companion’s arm with the tips of his fingers.

  
“You must let me escort you back to your apartment.”

  
“No,” Aaron answered, too quickly. The eyes grew wide, briefly frantic, “I can walk myself, sir. Though I appreciate the offer. You know I am a solitary creature.”

  
Alexander watched with fascination as the thin veneer of composure set in again, while his own frantic heartbeat found it’s familiar place. Burr took one last inscrutable glance at the former man, and nodded curtly.

  
Instantly, the roles fell back into place–both men suddenly acutely aware of their station. Hamilton watched the other man walk away, the darkness of the corridor swallowing him. He put a hand to his forehead, dizzy, and laughed out loud, likening himself in his mind to a silly girl and her new beau–a notion he assumed, until this night, no one would understand ever again. The auburn-haired Nevisian let out a small laugh, a tiny bubble of excitement growing inside of him. He suddenly felt lighter, freer, and, for the first time in nearly two months, excited.

 


End file.
